Urban Fantasy X
by Avelera
Summary: Our heroes are transported to Earth after touching the wall of the Fayth Scar. There they live the lives they would have had they been born there, with no memory of Spira. Only Yuna, who retains her memory, and the Fayth have any hope of getting them back
1. Auron

Urban Fantasy

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Final Fantasy and Squaresoft/Squarenix. I am making no money off this piece.

A/N: This story is AU, meaning takes place in an alternate universe. By that I mean Earth. It does NOT mean that this didn't happen in the game . You'll see.

_Blah_ = thoughts, emphasis, or Spira

(Blah) = Fayth speaking (usually) because the stupid asterix won't work on

* * *

"_No, Auron's right. This..." Whatever Tidus meant to say was drowned out as the spring that the watery pillar of the Fayth's Summons sprang from burbled a complaint, sighed, and exploded. Caught by surprise, the Guardians' battled trained reflexes kicked into overdrive as they dodged the sudden threat. Throwing themselves against the wall they reached for their weapons, their only thought to protect their Summoner against whatever bore down on them now. Kimahri alone was fast enough to pull Yuna out of harms way at the same time their backs collided with hard wall of the Fayth Scar._

_And all thought was washed away in a flash of pure light._

_(No, this is not the way...)_

* * *

Aaron shot forward in bed, cold sweat chilling his bare chest that rose and fell with his ragged panting._A nightmare_, he thought disgustedly, freeing himself of the twisted, sweat-drenched sheets. 

Hauling himself out of bed he glanced at the clock, turning all the way round to accommodate his useless right eye. The red block letters glowed 7:03 AM from a black clock/radio that had seen better days.

"Huh?" The alarm should have gone off an hour ago. Not that he was late but it would be passing up his usually leisurely morning routine in favor of getting showered, getting dressed and getting the hell out of here. He crossed the room to the bathroom door when the realization hit him like a punch in the face.

_Where the hell am I?!_

The room had a certain sterile elegance to it with its creamy white walls and colorful striped curtains that matched the bedspread of the queen-sized bed he had awoken in. Cheap picture frames showcasing views of the city adorned the wall over the bed while a TV sat at the foot of it on a small table.

A hotel room, he figured, maybe a Holiday Inn or something along those lines. Whatever it was it was a far cry from his own Spartan apartment simply equipped with a single kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and a small lving room. As far as he could remember the only decorations there were his gun rack, which was hidden, and his Thai Boxing diploma, which was not. Aside from that there was the TV he rarely watched and the makiwara, a warning sign to any who knew the first thing about martial arts. The rare person who did see the inside of his apartment usually did, that minority consisting of fellow cops or friends from the dojo. Blind dates or even intentional dates had become virtually non-existent ten years ago, not long after a desperate situation involving a criminal who wouldn't cooperate, no back up, and a knife put a close to his right eye, his social life, and his career in the field.

Pity that he didn't want kept him his job, stuck behind a desk for the rest of his natural life. He had been the best in the field, the most promising young officer the NYPD had seen in a long time but now...now he was just a liability, a has-been at age 35.

Padding over to the window he threw back the curtains, flooding the room with the dull gray light of an overcast morning. Only at the last minute did he realized that he was clad only in his black boxers and had there been, say, an apartment building across from the window he stood at they would have gotten front row seats for the showing of his mostly naked self.

Growling under his breath in annoyance Aaron turned away, rubbing his forehead as he wracked his brains to remember how he had gotten here. Had he been drunk? A possibility, a very likely possibility. As the hopelessness of his dead-end job had eaten away at him the bottle that he had once reviled had become quite attractive. But he had never drunk to the point of oblivion, at least not recently, and if he had there was no way he would have had the coherency to set himself up with a room.

_I'm lucky to be alive_, he realized, his hand dropping limply to his side. If drunkenness was indeed what had gotten him here then it probably meant he would have had to drive at some point. Even if he had walked here he would have been irresistible bait for muggers. _That can't be it_.

Thinking that perhaps a shower would clear his head, he turned the corner that led the bathroom, passing the full length mirror that served as the door to the closet and froze at the sight of his own reflection. The scar that stretched from hairline to shoulder was still there, a few shades darker than his skin, jagged and angry like the bastard had used his nails instead of the nine inch blade that Aaron had made the mistake of underestimating his expertise with.

Running a hand through his hair he stared in astonishment at its raven black lengths, long now that he didn't have to worry about some schmuck pulling on it when things got tight, reaching to his shoulder blades and with only the most imperceptible touch of gray, visible only if one used a cosmetic mirror, at the temples.

He stood rapt at the strangeness his own features held for him. His face was relatively smooth and free of frown-lines, the long scar adding age to a visage that otherwise looked no older than 30.

_Of course I don't look much older than 30_, Aaron thought, giving himself a mental slap. _Frown lines, gray hair? Maybe I _feel_ that old but I'm sure as hell not an old man yet._

After emerging from the shower he glanced at the logo imprinted into the towels before using it to squeeze the moisture out of his hair. _A Holiday Inn, huh?_ He thought, _At least I know where I am now_. Providing that he hadn't somehow ended up in another city he calculated that he was just outside the center Manhattan and winced at the thought of the bill for a night in the heart of New York City. As he toweled himself off he realized there was no avoiding wearing the clothes he had worn yesterday. Sure some people at the office would comment, probably the girls since they noticed things like that, but he didn't have time to run home and change. Pulling his long black trench coat over his white t-shirt (nobody cared anymore if _he_ wore his uniform) he grabbed his sunglasses and his wallet off the nightstand, stuffing the latter into his back pocket, below the handcuffs that hung from the belt loops. An eye patch just drew stares from people who couldn't help but wonder the extent of the damage it hid, not to mention added a somewhat villainous look that as a cop he would like to avoid. Sunglasses on the other hand covered up the worst of the damage while allowing people to see that, yes his eye was sealed shut by a scar and no the eye was not completely gone, just useless. He could handle the shudders.

He reached for the doorknob just as another hand reached _out_ of it. With a startled oath he threw himself back, watching with surprise then horror as a black kid, his eyes hidden under the hood of a sleeveless purple vest walked _through _the door and gazed at him expectantly.

(You shouldn't be here,) the boy said, his voice an ethereal childish tenor. (Wake up.)

Aaron gasped as wrenching feeling tore through his body, as if his very soul was being shredded. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, a scream rising behind his sealed lips, his nostrils flaring with the effort to suck in breath. Collapsing to one knee he looked up at the child, fighting another wave of pain that started behind his eyes like a bad hangover then branched its way down his body, making every nerve-ending feel like it was being dipped in fire. Just when he thought he couldn't take it another second the boy frowned and as suddenly as it had started the pain stopped, leaving Aaron on the ground, gasping for breath and shivering at the memory of it. He had thought that the car-crash he had been in sixteen years ago, that moment when the airbag had slammed into his face and the car door had crunched into his body, was the most pain one could ever experience in a lifetime but obviously he had been wrong. His hands scrabbled at his face and arms, expecting them to be running with blood or at least covered in bruises except...wait.... For a moment it had seemed as if something, a foxtail with a rainbow on the end had floated beneath the skin of his arm but then faded leaving him no worse for wear than he had been when he had woken up.

(Strange,) the boy said in the odd voice that seemed to be heard and felt at the same time. (For some reason you do not want to leave this world, Sir Auron. Why is that?)

With a final wheezing gasp Aaron pushed himself to his feet, feeling more secure now that he was towering over the source of that horrendous pain. "Who the hell are you? What do you mean 'leave this world'?" If the boy meant killing him, an idea that would have seemed laughable had the child not just dropped him to his knees without moving a finger, then why hadn't he done so?

The boy shook his head, (This _is_ unexpected. Perhaps I was wrong in thinking you would be the least susceptible.)

"You still haven't answered my question," Aaron said gruffly, feeling secure that the boy was not a threat for the moment but nonetheless casually slipping into a defensive stance, "Who are you?"

The boy's lips turned up in the tiniest smile. It was then Aaron noticed that the child's feet were bare and for some reason that surprised him more than his strange attire. (I have been called many names in many times and worlds. _You_ would know me as the Fayth of the Dragon Aeon, Bahamut.)

What that was supposed to mean, Aaron thought, but he supposed that Bahamut was a strange name that fitted the strange boy well. "Very well, Bahamut. Now, what do you want with me?"

You should not be in this place. Why you are here I do not know but perhaps if you are all brought together you will be able to leave.

"Leave? Kid...Bahamut, I have work in about fifteen minutes and there's no way I can get there in time with New York traffic. Whoever you're looking for, this 'Sir Auron' isn't me."

(You're wrong. There is nowhere you need to be right now in this place. It is more serious than I thought if the spirit of this world has control over you. Tell me, do you have memories of a family here? A life?)

Of course I do! Aaron almost blurted out but checked his reaction and replied calmly, "Why wouldn't I? I have lived here my whole life."

The mysterious smile returned, (Really? Then tell me: what is your last name?)

Aaron opened his mouth to reply and the cold realization swept through him...

(You see? You are not of this world. Even now it is rejecting you. It is only a matter of time before you are free of it. But for some reason you cannot free yourself as you should be able to.)

"No...I'm Aaron... _Officer_ Aaron of the NYPD, I..." yet even as he said it the details seemed to slip through his fingers leaving nothing to fill in the sudden holes in his memory.

(You are Sir Auron of Spira, Guardian to the Summoner Yuna and her father High Summoner Braska before her. You are on a quest to defeat Sin. You are now endeavoring to break the endless cycle of death and put a stop to our dreaming. You wish to go to the Farplane where you may rest in peace after freeing your friend Jecht from the imprisonment of Yu Yevon.)

The names swirled through Aaron's memory, as if to reassert themselves into his consciousness but found no purchase. He wanted them to, he wanted to make sense of this crazy situation at the same time he wanted this boy, these _thoughts_ out of his head so he could return to his life.

(I can help you but you must do as I say,) Bahamut said. (Then I promise you, you can have what you want.)

"And why should I believe you?" Aaron said with more than a touch of bitterness in his voice.

(I could give you many reasons but the truth is that you must. Now, if you'll excuse me,) With that the boy closed his eyes began to fade in a swirl of multi-colored lights.

"Wait!" Aaron cried and the boys dissolving form froze in its state of translucency, the rainbow foxtails still dodging in and out of his body. Aaron realized, feeling a bit foolish, that it was not his plea that had stopped the boy. Whatever had just happened though it convinced him that unless someone was playing of very expensive joke on him involving expensive CGI and hallucinogens that this was the real deal.

(Found one,) the boy said, solidifying. (Do you have means of transportation?)

"You mean a car?" he said archly. The boy nodded. "Yes. But first I need to pay the bill."

(It has been taken care of.)

That gave Aaron a pause and he looked down at the boy, a question written on his face.

(You were never here. As I said, this reality is rejecting you. It's only a matter of time before you reject it in turn and return to your own,) Aaron decided that it was best not to think too deeply on this. Either it was some crazy dream that he'd wake up from in the morning or somehow this kid was going to solve the problem. Either way, a hotel bill was the least of his worries.

The boy followed him down the hallway and into the elevator though by the way he had stepped _through_ the door, Aaron had a feeling that normal transportation was superfluous to the apparition.

The receptionist waved at him as he went by, seemingly unconcerned by the threatening man with the long black trench coat and raven hair tied back in a ponytail that was leaving one of the rooms. Her eyes did not even flicker as she looked straight through Bahamut and Aaron's own narrowed at the implications.

(They cannot see me but for the moment they can see you. Just pretend as if I am not here and everything will be fine.)

Nodding as if to himself to show that he understood, Aaron stepped out into the busy city streets, sinking into the flow of pedestrian traffic like a fish into water. Despite what he had told the kid it wouldn't take him that long to get to work from here but getting to his apartment and more importantly the parking garage that housed his car, assuming he had walked here, was another matter.

"Where are we headed?" he asked Bahamut, assuming that since the faith or whatever it was hadn't stopped him that he must be going where it wanted.

(I am not sure yet. I will know when I find it.)

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

Bahamut gave him a wry smile. (It is all we can do until we find the others.)

"What others?"  
  
(Your fellow Guardians and your Summoner.)

It was all too weird so Aaron just nodded as if he had the faintest idea what the kid was saying and continued walking until he reached the entrance of a subway.

(I thought you said you had your own means of transportation?)

"This is faster than going back to the car in this traffic."

The boy said nothing but grabbed Aaron's hand, sending a jolt of surprise through the cop. Bahamut's hand felt normal, it was even warm like a normal human being's but for a moment he had had the distinct impression of claws big enough to crush his skull engulfing his hand.

The world around them seemed to _shift_ and suddenly they were standing in a familiar musty parking garage next to an even more familiar red jeep.

A wave of nausea hit Aaron and he closed his eye until it passed. Somehow with all the strange things that had happened this morning he knew this shouldn't surprise him but it was all he could do to bite down a startled curse.

(Is this the correct place?) Bahamut asked those his tone implied that he knew very well that it was. Aaron nodded mutely and pulled the keys from his jean pocket, unlocking the door and starting the jeep with a roar. The passenger door opened and the boy took a seat next to him. (Don't worry, I'll find it.)

They pulled out of the parking garage and into the streets. Aaron's eye narrowed as he peered over his shades at the swiftly moving traffic, unnatural at this hour in this city. Glancing down at the boy he was about to ask if he had anything to do with it but decided against it. "Buckle your seatbelt," he said curtly.

(That won't be necessary.)

Aaron didn't argue the point.

* * *

A/N: This was the first fic I have written that enabled me to do _research_ It was a ton of fun. Anyway, the hotel Aaron awakes in actually exists in downtown Manhattan and the description of the room is accurate. I interviewed a 3rd degree black-belt to find out what the most dangerous but also the most useful in real life form of empty-handed martial arts there was and he told me Thai Kick Boxing. Those people can literally take off your head! He also told me about the makiwari. A makiwari is made out of two boards with a cloth wrapped around the top. It is much more unyielding and tough than a normal punching bag and anybody who has one laying around that uses it regularly to train is pretty tough.

If you are wondering about why Aaron does not look like Auron and why he is surprised at this, let me explain. Everyone has a very clear mental image of themselves (this is also explained in the first Matrix movie). Aaron was initially startled because while he does not remember _being_ Auron, deep down he knows what he is supposed to look like and when he doesn't that shocks him. Contrary to this, Auron of Spira _is_ only 35. Even with all that he has been through, he should not look _that_ old. My theory is that he looks that old because he _feels_ that old. He has seen a lot and endured his own death. Though it shouldn't be enough to change his physical appearance, he is no longer bound by the physical laws because his body is now made up of his mental image (i.e. the pyreflies). However, his stay in our world is dominated by the spirit (or Gaea I suppose for other FF fans) of our world. It sees him as an alien presence and so tries to adjust him to our world. Aaron is who Auron would be in our world (the whole unsent thing wouldn't have happened so rather than killing him, Gaea makes it so he never died. If he never died then he would not look as old as he felt thus the younger appearance). However, this is not enough and so our Gaea begins to reject him. While he is still visible to us he is no longer part of our lives and thus any people he knew here (unless they are reflections of Spira) no longer remember him as a cop. Bahamut on the other hand is a Fayth, a spirit of Spira. Thus, only Spirans can see him.

More information on future updates can be found on the homepage link of my author page.

If you would like to see more of this fic, please review!


	2. Rikku

Urban Fantasy X

Disclaimer: see chapter 1.

A/N: Well here's chapter two. You may have noticed that the chapters are going in the same order as Tidus meets characters in FFX. This is intentional. Please enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

As in the last chapter: 

_Blah_: emphasis, Spira, or thoughts 

(Blah): means a Fayth is speaking or is the () are being used in their usual context. I originally meant to use asterixes but they didn't work on the site.

* * *

(Here. Pull over,) the child Fayth said as he and Aaron passed through a district of New York that not a moment ago the cop had been hoping they would exit quickly. It was almost picturesque in its aura of crime and poverty. Few people walked openly in the street but the shadows teamed with half-seen forms, their eyes shifty and feral like a hoard of rabid vermin. More than ever Aaron wished that he had had time to stop at home and pick up a gun. Even the sewers were doing their part to add a feeling of foreboding to the area, spewing columns of steam, caused by the cold sewer air colliding with the warmer surface, into the sky.

"If we leave the car it will be stripped by the time we come back," Aaron warned but there was a trace of resignation in his voice.

(Do not fear. We will not go far from it.)

Aaron sighed but so far he had no reason not to trust the boy so he pulled the car to the side of the road and flipped it into park. Was it just his imagination or did those phantom eyes take on a hungry gleam?

Unbuckling his seat belt he noted this time with only a tiny jolt that Bahamut had not bothered with the door but had simply appeared on the other side. Aaron wondered briefly if it was even worth it to lock the car and decided against it in case they needed a quick getaway.

"Now what?" Aaron asked, standing on the curb with his arms crossed.

(Now, we wait. Open the hood of the machina as if you are trying to repair it.)

Aaron rolled his eye. Assuming that by machina the Fayth meant car then he should have said that at the beginning and Aaron might have been able to make it look more convincing and less difficult to start the car in case of an emergency. Pushing up the hood of the jeep and putting the prop in place he began to study the washer fluid container like it was his key to passing police school, cursing his missing eye for leaving him vulnerable to attack on his right side. _Though the biggest threat is someone trying to shoot me and there isn't much I could do against that anyway,_ he thought, screwing and unscrewing the cap while trying nonetheless to surreptitiously watch the road and the child.

Twenty minute passed and Aaron was beginning to wonder what the hell he was doing here. The more he examined the last two hours of his life the more insane it seemed. First he woke up in a strange hotel room, having no idea how he got there, then all of a sudden Aaron's not his real name and he's following a barefooted six year old who can walk through walls around town as if his life depended on it. And the thing was that it did. He was about to turn to said six-year-old and suggest that they try someplace else when a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. Luckily it was on his left side so he did not need to turn far to get a better look at the figure. Had he not been so familiar with the ways of the underworld he might have been surprised.

She seemed to dance as she walked; her fingers twitching to an unheard melody and her ponytail that sprouted form her head like a fountain bobbing along. She was extremely thin and Aaron wondered whether it was because she was naturally like that or if her appetite had been stolen by certain illegal substances, possibly carried in the small black backpack that was slung over one shoulder. He guessed the former for despite her lean form she had quite well-developed breasts, showcased by a low-cut, mid-rift revealing orange tank-top. With her wheat blonde hair and her legs that went on forever from her short shorts to her beat up sneakers she could probably land a job modeling if she acquired the right connections but it was more likely in this area of town she would get a brief unhappy career at the local peep show then quickly lose her vivacious beauty to the hardships of life.

Since the "fragile beauty" look was incongruous with the way she walked, bold as brass, down the center of the sidewalk in a place where she would be lucky to survive a day without being robbed and raped he would have to assume that she was either lost (which was unlikely) or that that delicate exterior hid some sort of brain or brawn that the locals were familiar with and thus steered clear of.

"You need some help with that?" she called in a high, almost squeaky soprano. She did not slacken her pace and by the way she would ever so subtly sway her hips she was betting on her looks to get her out of any unexpected trouble. Something told him she had a backup plan ready if it only got her into more.

Aaron turned to Bahamut who gave a slight nod. "It would be appreciated," he replied though all his instincts screamed against it. She looped her hand through the other strap of the backpack and took her place beside him at the front of the car.

"Hey there," she waved cheerfully over her shoulder to Bahamut. Though he had trusted the Fayth, the fact that she saw Bahamut only confirmed his belief that she was somehow tied to this. But how to get her to come along? Aaron knew that if they lost her they'd never find her again. The slightest hint of a threat and she'd be out of here or at his throat before he could blink.

"I'm Marika," she said, holding out her hand which was grease stained from her inspection of the motor, "But my friends call me Ricky. I was just passing through when I saw your car," her words were so fast that had Aaron not been concentrating on them he probably would have only heard a blur of speech, "I'm not old enough to drive yet but I'm a real wiz with cars since I help at dad's shop so you don't have to worry about me, you know, wrecking anything," fixing cars was obviously not the only thing she was good at. As her right hand reached out to take his, her other slipped into her pocket, obscuring something small and square that nevertheless filled the tiny pouch of the shorts to overflowing. Her sleight of hand made it immediately obvious what her niche on the streets was. He took the much smaller hand in his firm grip, giving her the barest hint of a thankful smile to hold her gaze for a second then with a swift flick of his wrist freed the handcuffs from his belt loops and snapped them around her wrist.

"What the... whoa!" she cried before his hand closed over her mouth and lightning fast knocked the prop out from under the hood, slamming it with a clang. Praying that she was now too close to him for any friends of her to risk taking him out from a distance he grabbed her other hand with his free one. She tried to resist, pressing the tiny backpack into his chest as she squirmed like a snake in his grasp. But he was the stronger within a moment of the initial surprise she was helpless wriggling weight in his arms, silenced by the hand he had not yet removed. She tried to bite even as she screamed through it but he had anticipated that and had bent his hand slightly to prevent that from happening. Frustration blooming in her face she wriggled the tip of her tongue against his cupped palm, hoping that maybe the feeling of the moist, tentacle-like appendage brushing up against his dry skin would distract him enough to offer her an opportunity to escape. Freeing his hand for an instant to open the back seat he tossed her extremely light form (no more than 100 lbs. he guessed) into the back seat and assumed the driver's seat, making sure to lock the doors and put on the child-lock. Her eyes, which he could now see where a vibrant shade of green, were wide and rolling and her breathing emerged in panting gasps. Bahamut stepped through the car door, eliciting a shriek from the bound would-be thief.

(That was unnecessary, Sir Auron,) the Fayth said sternly, with a touch of anger in his voice, (You are fortunate that she is one of your fellow Guardians and not a stranger of this world else I would seriously consider leaving you to face consequence of your actions.)

"It was the only way we would have been able to make her come," Aaron growled, starting the car and putting it into reverse to return the way they had come. He wasn't sure where they were going next but he figured that his apartment would be a good place to start. Whether Bahamut liked it or not next time they went through this he intended to have a gun handy. "Now why don't you explain to her what's going on before she has a heart attack. I wouldn't recommend trying to forcibly return her as you did with me."

(Of course,) the Fayth said and stepped through the seat to the back where he sat down next to Ricky, who gave a fresh squeal of terror at the sight.

"Was _that_ truly necessary?" Aaron said sarcastically.

(I have found it an effective way to broach the subject.)

"Right," Aaron replied and turned back to the road, leaving the Fayth to bring his fellow Guardian around.

(Hello, Rikku,) Bahamut said pleasantly.

It seemed that the girl had overcome her initial paralysis and there was now more fury than fear in her eyes, "Let me out, let me out now! Or I swear I'll call the cops!"

"That won't be necessary," Aaron said, flipping open a small leather case to reveal a shiny brass badge. "I am one."

"Wha-? No way, I don't believe you! I bet you stole that off someone you murdered!" she cried. "Let me out or you'll be sorry, you big meanie!"

"Would you ask her about her last name and get this over with?" Aaron said irritably.

"Yeah right, like I'm telling _you_ my last name!" Ricky shot back.

"It would not matter even if you wished to. Unless I am gravely mistaken, you can't remember it," Aaron said, biting off the end of each word.

Derision then disbelief flitted across the girl's face, followed closely by anger. Anger melted into blank shock and a cross between a gasp and a choke broke her lips. Her breathing slowed but each intake became deeper and more ragged and her face was now a sickening shade of greenish-white.

"Please, let me out," her green eyes had taken on a luminous quality and all traces of a street-hardened pick-pocket had disappeared. Now she just looked like a sad, scared little girl. "I- we don't have much money but I'm sure my family could give you something if you let me go. Please?" she placed a shaking hand on the window, leaving a faint trail down the glass as her fingers slid down to its base, her other arm gripped her small backpack as if she were a child with a teddy-bear. However, her gaze stayed locked on Aaron's sunglasses-shadowed face reflected in the rearview mirror. "_Please?_"

He felt a wash of pity for the girl overwhelm him. She was in the same position as him now, lost and confused, the world she knew crumbling around her. But unlike him she did not have years of maturity and self-reliance to keep her strong. Even with all the difficulty of street life it sounded as if she had always had her family to fall back on. Now she was alone, with only a child ghost and a cop aged beyond his years to offer her comfort. Despite all this he kept his visage firm and stony. It was out of his hands. "It's your turn now, Bahamut," he said gruffly.

(I'm sorry, Rikku,) Bahamut said sadly, taking a seat next to the blonde 15-year-old.

"Why did you keep calling me that?" Ricky sniffled, pulling away from the apparition. She had realized by now that his childish appearance was deceiving.

(Because Rikku is who you are. Child of the Al Bhed of Spira; Guardian to your cousin, the Summoner Yuna. There was an accident and for some reason you all ended up in this alternate dimension,) Ricky was now openly staring at the Fayth now but the spirit continued, undisturbed. (I do not yet understand why you are still here. This world is rejecting you and unless there is some reason you do not _wish_ to return to Spira you should have automatically been overpowered and sent back. Sir Auron I assumed had a strong enough will to shrug off this world's effects but when he could not I guessed that it was because of his nature as one of the Unsent, that perhaps the spirit of this world had tapped into the will that kept his form together and was thus controlling him. But that is not the case with you and yet you also seem to have no memory of your true existence. Or do you?)

"Did you...hit your head or something?" Ricky said incredulously then turned to the only other person in the car who seemed sane (and did not walk through solid objects). "What is he _talking_ about? If this isn't about money and you're not gonna...you know...me then why do you have this crazy story? Are you high or something? Am _I _high?" when the stoic police officer didn't respond she turned back to the kid, who was still sitting there placidly, floating an inch or so above the seat, "Al bed? Guardian? Speera? What the heck is going on?!"

"Would you rather we let you go?" Aaron interjected. Before Ricky could answer a resounding affirmative he continued, "You cannot even remember your last name. There may be bits of your life disappearing from your memory with nothing to replace them. Would you rather be alone right now? Or would you rather have someone help you?" he paused and decided that he was making some headway for she remained silent. "If you want out then say the word and you're free. But if you are as frightened as I am about all of this then listen to Bahamut. He may be able to help, but if not then this nightmare will end and we can both return to our lives. Fair enough?"

(Well said, Sir Auron,) the Fayth supplied softly, a tiny smile visible beneath the shadow of his hood.

"It's not fair," the girl sniffled but there was no more rebellion in her voice.

"No one ever said life was," Aaron said neutrally, his scarred face turned slightly back towards Ricky. Sometimes the old sayings were the best. The ride continued in silence.

* * *

A/N: This is _not_ an Aurrikku, nor does it contain any Aurrikku romance. It is much weirder for those two to hook up in our world than it is even is in Spira. However, this chapter is a slight tribute to them simply because I enjoy that genre.

There is an alternate version of this chapter available on my homepage (the link is in my profile).

Please review to tell me whether or not you enjoyed this chapter. I assure you it will help me write the next one faster.


	3. Wakka

Chapter 3: Wakka

Disclaimer: see chapter 1.

A/N: I apologize for the wait. Just so ya know this fic isn't dead but I had a great deal of difficulty adjusting to the school work load and thus couldn't find my focus for fan fiction. The writer's block didn't help...

* * *

Walker switched off the radio as the broadcasted sermon came to a close then lightning fast had the steering-wheel back in his white-knuckle grip. He took a deep breath in and tried to slow his pounding heart rate. _It's no big deal, ya?_ He thought, _You used to drive with one hand all the time_. Nonetheless the thought of removing his hand again to roll open the window for some fresh air or to cross himself in the aftermath of the sermon shot his pulse through the roof.

He relaxed as best he could into the seat, willing his muscles to loosen while at the same time retaining his paranoid gaze on the road. Several cars past him on the left, in fact most cars when coming in contact with his blue Pontiac Grand Am going ten miles under the speed limit went around if the road permitted them. Sometimes they would even if it didn't, which made him to bite his lips and glare after them furiously, _You know how dangerous that is?!_

That's not to say that he was paranoid or anything. He'd like to live dangerously too, up until a year ago. He felt sweat pricking his brow; _This isn't the time to be thinkin' bout dat. Just get to the hospital, pick up Lu and go._ Driving had seemed like a good idea at the time. Lu was working on her internship at Liberty Health Hospital and would have to bum a ride off someone to get her back as far as the PATH train and from there to the subways. When Walker had heard this he decided there was no way in hell his Lucia was gonna be takin' the subway after dark and finally after nearly a half hour of eyeing the machine he had gotten into the driver's seat and headed off.

For his first time driving since the accident he had to admit he was doing pretty good. No mishaps, no distractions....

_Bingly-bingly-BEEP!_

"JESUS! Ah, I mean..." he glanced up at the upholstery ceiling of the car then quickly at the passenger seat. His black cell phone was ringing and vibrating like it was about to throw itself out the window if he didn't answer it. He glanced nervously at the road then back at the phone. _I'll just take the message_, he thought. _But then what if it's somethin' real important? What if it's Lu?_ He licked his lips as he debated the issue in his head then almost gasped in relief as his destination came into view. _If it was important I'll see her in a bit._

He turned on his blinkers and came to a steady but full stop in front of the building, ignoring the angry honks that blared behind him and turned into the parking lot of hospital.

Liberty Health was a huge complex, painted mostly white and sprawling over 15 acres with a view of the statue of Liberty and the New York City Harbor. It specialized in tending women, infants, and those suffering from trauma. After the accident Lu had chosen to go into the medical field rather than pursue her lifelong dream of becoming a chemist. No one questioned her, even to remark with surprise at her decision. Everyone already knew. Lucia's motto in life had always been never to trust others with a job that can be better done yourself; never mind that even the best care money could buy wouldn't have been enough. She was driven, always had been, and now her goal was to save someone who had died a year ago.

Stepping out of the car he glanced down self-consciously at his ripped jeans and white muscle shirt, feeling a bit out of place outside this pristine building where words like electrocardiogram, aphasia, and anoxia were tossed as casually as paper by the side of the road. Chad would have felt at home here even in rags. He had always been the smarter of the two of them, able to keep up with Lucia when she went off about chemical formulas and molecules. Walker had always stood by as their intellectual arguments left him in the dust.

But Chad was gone and he... he was still here. He bent to lock the car door behind him, wondering if he should have at least combed his hair or something before he had left. But then again he almost never did whenever he knew he was gonna see Lu. Sometimes he would even make sure that his unruly orange hair was sticking as straight up as possible, kept out of his face with a blue sweatband, just so she would sigh in exasperation and run her long white fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it, he long nails lightly scratching his scalp.

It was the only physical contact they had had since that day. Discomfort or no, he wouldn't miss it for the world.

The automatic doors slid open easily to allow him in and for a moment he was bathed in a blast of chill air that settled into cool fresh environment. A young woman with blonde hair pulled back in a bun with a pair of tiny rectangular glasses that perched on the end of her nose sat at the reception desk. She glanced up and offered him a pleasant smile that went slack at the same time her dark brown eyes flew wide, "Welcome to Liberty Health Hospital. Hey, aren't you that guy who...?"

"Yeah, I am," Walker said, scratching the back of neck nervously. Couldn't people just leave that alone? "Uh, I'm looking for a girl named Lu, ah, I mean, Lucia. She's about this tall," he said, gesturing. "...and has long black hair that she wears a bit like yours, ya? Only with braids hangin' down and...This isn't helping, is it?"

The receptionists smile had taken on the fake plastic quality of a Barbie doll, "I'm sorry, there are many people who match her description. Could you please tell me what her malady is and her last name and I should be able to tell you."

"Oh, no, she's not a patient. She's a med student. Interning, ya? And her last name is-," just then the distant wail of a siren hit an earsplitting pitch and the main doors flew open. Three gurneys were hauled out the back of the ambulance and before Walker could make out the unfortunates their forms were obscured by buzzing attendants.

A group of hospital aids came trotting out the bone white doors to Walker's right, one of them clicking by him in her black high heels, her ebony braids trailing from the tight bun perched atop her head. She stopped just in front of him and her face twitching briefly between shock and annoyance before resuming its impervious mask of cool calculation, "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, came to pick you up. So you didn't need to take the subway, ya? But I guess you're kinda busy...I'll, uh, just go."

"Didn't you get my message?" at the helpless look on his face she gave a sigh and turned back towards the commotion. However, it seemed that everything was under control and there was little she could do until she learned the patients' diagnoses and less if they were pronounced dead.

"Yes, it is a bad time, but I'm sorry for snapping," Lucia apologized.

"Hey, it's ok. You're under a lot of stress here," Walker said. Lucia offered him a rare half-smile then with a sigh of exasperation slipped the blue sweatband off his head and began to comb his hair to the side with her long fingernails. It was all Walker could do to keep from purring and he closed his eyes, just for a second, and so missed that tiny half-smile stretching into a full one, putting a merry twinkle in her usually solemn crimson eyes. Suddenly the ministration stopped and Walker opened his eyes questioningly only to find she was gazing back at him, her ever-present mask of calm replaced by startlement.

"Did you drive here?" her voice was incredulous and concerned at the same time.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, scuffing the floor. "It's been a year, ya? I gotta move on," Lucia's lips tightened and Walker wondered if he had said the wrong thing. What if she wasn't ready to move on?

A tense moment past, Walker felt as if he was poised upon a tight rope waiting for the dark haired beauty in front of him to tumble, dragging him down with her. She seemed to be staring right through him into the past, back to that day when his brother died and he could do nothing to stop it...

Lucia glanced away as the three gurneys were brought into the inner sanctums of the hospital and sighed as if all the breath were being smothered from her. Her shoulders slumped as if under a great weight then straightened as she once more assumed her mantle of ice. "Go home, Walker," she said and turned away. "I have a feeling that I will be working late."

"Yeah, but-," he called after the fading moment.

"Just go," she didn't raise her voice, she didn't need to. He wondered if she knew how much he hated that tone, that sultry monotone devoid of life. The very sound of it was like watching her fall farther and farther away, back into the past.

For a moment Walker tried to think of something to say, anything to lift the oppressive shadow that had fallen across this parting, making like so many others. He had almost dared to hope that they were passed this. Couldn't he just once do something right for her? Couldn't she once let him?

Yet nothing came.

He watched as she drifted back towards what he knew was her refuge, her prison from the world: the labyrinthine tracks of the hospital. Soon she would slip back into her work, probably forgetting that he had been here at all.

Nobody said it, nobody dared but everyone knew why she was here. Every face that she tended was the same one. Every lost life pulled her further away from the present while every life saved deepened her regret. All he wanted to do was catch her and pull her away from this freefall. But would that be betrayal? Would-

"Give me a call when you want to be picked up, ya?" Walker shouted after her.

"Don't worry, I'll find a ride," her voice floated back over the hubbub and he watched her as she was swallowed by the sterile white doors and then for a moment longer.

With a sigh he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned back towards the door. There was only one thing he could do:

Find a seat and begin the wait.

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The next chapter will either be titled "Lulu" or "Lulu & Kimahri". Please review

For in depth information on future updates click the link to my homepage on my profile.


	4. Lulu

Urban Fantasy X

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: This has been sitting on my hardrive for awhile now so I thought I'd spruce it up and allow it to see the light of day. I would love to continue UFX but I'm working through four other projects not to mention my budding original work so we'll have to wait and see.

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"She's suffered a blow to the head but there's little bruising and no concussion. We've put her on sedatives so she'll probably wake up sometime in the morning," Wayne reported. Wayne at a glance looked more at home in a garage band than in a hospital. Ten years Lucia's senior he looked not a day passed his mid-twenties with shaggy curly black hair and thick black glasses. A pair of hightop sneakers peaked out from under his white coat, similar to the kind one would find on the current punk bands, lacking only random doodles in pen to complete the image. He adjusted his glasses and flipped through the short novel's worth of papers attached to his clipboard. Lucia could only assume they also contained the files of the two other passengers, "Her father, and the second man were dead upon impact. Now I gotta tell you, Lu, there's a lot of weird stuff goin' on with this case. I mean, this is the stuff that 'Unsolved Mysteries' is made of. Now look here," he said, gesturing at a line halfway down the page, "the only reason we're calling the girl 'Yuna' is because it was written on her bag. It could be a brand for all we know. Her father, Brian, was singed when the car caught fire, along with his wallet. Every ID card except for one melted and the last name is indistinguishable on the only one left. The second guy, Jack? Same deal. Oh, believe me, it gets better," Wayne said in response to Lucia's disbelieving stare.

"Then how are they paying for the treatment?" Lucia protested.

"That's where it gets better. An _anonymous benefactor_ is paying for the full treatment of the Yuna girl. Maybe the higher-ups know who this guy is but I sure don't. All I got is authorization to treat her for whatever comes up. I mean, is that even legal? The bottom line, two John Does, one Jane, all we've got are first names, not a surname amongst them and an equally anonymous millionaire is making sure that the Johns' get full burial rites and the girl full treatment. Let's not even go in to the fact they're being treated _here_. There's hundreds places close by that are better at taking care of accident victims than we are! Especially for the dough this guy's paying," Wayne flipped the papers shut and passed the clipboard to Lucia. "And now, Lu-me-dear, it's _your_ problem. Your first solo, hands-on patient. At least until she wakes up. Then you'll have Doctor Whatshisname, the best money can buy leering over your shoulder. Can't say I envy you. I'm off," Wayne began unbuttoning his coat even as he moved towards the exit. "See you tomorrow."

Lucia snapped out of her daze, "Wait! Is there anything else I should know?" Lucia called after him.

"It's all right there in the file," Wayne waved and the automatic doors sealed behind him. Staring down at what looked like at least a hundred pages of files Lucia felt the cold urge to strangle Wayne rise from the pit of her belly. But all that emerged was a tired sigh as she headed towards the room marked at the top.

Yuna was still asleep when Lucia arrived, her soft brown hair was splayed over the pillow and her chest rose and fell evenly. Seeing nothing amiss, Lucia flipped through her schedule and finding no other appointments gave a small sigh of relief. _I suppose I should eat now_, she thought then glanced at her watch, _As long as I make it quick_.

Shaking her head she quietly left the sickroom, watching her step with her peripheral vision as she scanned the sheets on the clipboard. There was hardly anything new here that Wayne hadn't already told her. Name: Yuna(?), height: 5'4", hair: brown eyes: blue + green. Lucia's dark eyes flickered to a halt. Blue and green? Was that simply a messy way of saying blue-green eyes, or did she have heterochromia? She mentally tacked it on to the growing list of odd things that surrounded this odd girl and with a start that was quickly masked with icy composure realized she had almost walked past the patient's room. Wrenching her eyes away from the clipboard she gently opened the door and stepped into the darkened room. A slight form lay beneath the taught sheets and a rhythmic beeping proclaimed the girl's heartbeat regular. For a moment that felt stolen Lucia simply stood there, lulled by the cool darkness and the peaceful expression on the child's sleeping face. In truth the girl was in all likelihood only a few years Lucia's junior but there was something about her, perhaps her mussed hair or her delicate features, the bespoke an innocence that tugged at Lucia's maternal instincts. The poor child, she might as well get used to the name "Yuna", at least until proven otherwise, likely had no idea of the circumstances that had brought her to this hospital. In all likelihood one of the Doe's had been her father and Lucia felt her heart clench with a mixture of pity, anger, and that quiet empty feeling that filled her heart whenever she witnessed these sort of tragedies, which became more regular the further she advanced in the field. Someone was going to have to inform the girl of what had happened and for some reason Lucia felt personally responsible. Even if it breached protocol, she didn't want Yuna learning of the tragedy from an impersonal doctor or nurse, but from someone who truly cared and sympathized for her loss. Somewhere in Lucia's heart, she had already designated herself as this person.

Yuna shifted in the bed, a soft mewling sound escaping her delicately parted lips. For a moment Lucia thought her ward would simply turn over in her sleep, burying her pale face deeper into the sterilized hospital pillow, extending her dreaming ignorance a few precious moments longer. But the soft cry was followed by a more coherent sound, a sleepy, "Wha-?" brought Lucia to her feet as Yuna's eyes blinked sleepily open. "Lulu?"

For a moment Lucia was left speechless by the familiar use of her childhood nickname but her training quickly took over. "I'm sorry, my name is Lucia. I'm a physician's assistant here at Liberty Health. There was an accident," she paused, unsure of how to continue and was met by a look of utter incomprehension in Yuna's eyes. _How strange, they are indeed blue and green, separately_. "This is a hospital, you seemed to have sustained little to no damage but if you wouldn't mind I would like to take down some information."

"An accident? Was anyone hurt?" the girl questioned as Lucia readied the clipboard.

Lucia resisted biting her lip; she could feel the quiet numbness seeping into her heart, her inner wall against the suffering of others. "I'm afraid…you were the only survivor."

The girl's eyes remained wide and confused, her mouth alternately opening and closing at a loss for words. Lucia steeled herself further against the inevitable storm of raging or weeping. _I shouldn't have done this, I should have let Dr. Fountain tell her all this…_ and now she had to deal, once again with the loss in another's face, she had to—

"Lulu, what in Yevon's name are you talking about?" the girl exclaimed and it was Lucia's turn to be struck by confusion. _What on earth…? Surely she meant Heaven_.

"Miss…Yuna, is that your name?" The girl nodded warily, "I'm not licensed to release further information on the accident. I have said too much already. If you will wait a moment while I call the doctor," "Dr. Fountain, paging Dr. Fountain, the patient is awake," she announced into her radio before returning it to her belt. Turning back to said patient she saw that the girl's eyes had gone if possible even wider.

"L-Lulu! You used a machina! A _forbidden_ machina!" Yuna exclaimed then as if something had occurred to her she added, "I had no idea you had adjusted so quickly," Then, as if for the first time, she began to take in her surroundings from the blinking machines and sterile walls to Lucia's austere white coat. "Are we aboard the airship?" The girl pushed herself up her voice growing frantic. "Where is everyone?"

Lucia opened her mouth to reply though in truth she had no answer, she was not even sure she should if she could. It was possible the girl's mental health was in question when she was saved by the click of the door opening and the arrival of Dr. Fountain.

"Thank you Lucia, for keeping an eye on her," A middle-aged woman with short strawberry-blonde hair and kind brown eyes surrounded by fine wrinkles, Dr. Fountain brought with her a sense of certainty that Lucia was only too relieved to experience. "I'll take over from here. Why don't you get something from the cafeteria while I help Miss Yuna here," her smile was friendly but it brooked no argument. Lucia had just turned to leave when she heard a high-pitched cry from Yuna.

"No! Wait, Lulu! Where are you going? Where are we?!" Lucia turned and saw a veiled but pointed look of disappointment from the doctor for so upsetting her patient.

"Lucia will be back soon, Miss Yuna. Now I need you to relax," taking that as a dismissal Lucia fled as quickly and calmly as she could from the girl's frightened eyes and the swirling emotions they had unlocked inside her.

Before closing the door behind her she quietly whispered into the doctor's ears, "I have not taken any vitals but I think we may have a case for Psych here," Fountain nodded her thanks and with mixed feelings Lucia closed the door behind her. For a moment she leaned against it, allowing the tightness to go out of her shoulders. With a deep breath she resumed her stately posture and deciding that perhaps it had been too long since she had had anything to, walked towards the elevator that led to the hospital's small cafeteria.

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Please review, I'm interested to see who still has any interest in this story. 


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